Of Uchihas And Harunos
by Nagareboshi Star
Summary: Post-Canon. One-shot collection. Story number one: When Sakura presents Sasuke with the unforeseen news of her pregnancy, he does not know what to think. All he can do is panic. The Uchiha way.
1. Speechless Talk

_**A/N: **Yes, you guessed right. I read the final chapters of Naruto the other day, and now I'm in total hyped up Naruto mode. So, **warning, spoilers for all of you who have not read the chapters/only watch the anime or whatever. ****D****o not read on.**_

_To all of you who know already; I am freaking out because, literally, everything I hoped for actually happened by the end of Naruto. I really cannot await the movie(s), now._

So anyway, blame my dear friend Mythika who just babbles random stuff about Sasuke and Sakura and their daughter and gives me IDEAS! This will be a one-shot series revolving around the Uchiha family and new generation children, whenever inspiration strikes. Currently, three ideas have been born, of which two are still in progress, and one can be read right here. Status is complete, because, as said, it's One-shots.

So enjoy, squeal, and don't forget to **review at the end,** sweethearts

_P.S.: Awesome cover image was found on tumblr :P  
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><p><strong><span>Speechless Talk<span>**

"_I'll see you when I'm back..."_

_He remembered her face, greeting him at the gates; her eyes a complexion made out of the deepest essence of the ocean, combined with the most glorious emerald Sasuke could have ever imagined to exist._

_Her warming smile, shooting through his body, rattling his spine, causing something pleasant and vaguely familiar to spread vigorously across the bridge of his nose. _

"_Okaerinasai, Sasuke-kun." Sweet and melodic; her voice flowed like a breeze of soothing, cool air on a horridly hostile summer's day._

_Before he could fully comprehend what occurred, she had embraced him, holding his body tightly against her smooth, elegant and fitting curves. _

_After all this time..._

_She had waited..._

_His heart jolted uncharacteristically._

_He did not deserve her...  
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"_I'm home."  
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><p>With startling cognition, he awoke, feeling something was off before it even transpired.<p>

Sunlight glistened through the thin, semi-transparent curtains, tickling across his skin, brightening up patches of his bedroom.

Something weighty shifted beside him in discomfort.

He may correct; _their_ bedroom.

Turning to the side, eggshell blankets sliding off his naked torso, he was met with the back of his wife facing him. She had a slim, silky beige top on that concealed barely any skin at all. He came to learn these past years that Sakura disliked too much clothing whilst in bed and outside of the colder, more demanding winter months.

The top rode up just in the slightest, revealing pale, tender skin which flexed.

She shifted.

And turned to face him, eyes shut softly, her expression serene yet...strained.

Observing her button nose wrinkle, her eyebrows furrow ever so slightly as her flushed cheeks moved up, strands of rebellious rose hair masking her beautiful features, Sasuke frowned.

She seemed to be battling with something. Maybe a nightmare? His plain, expressionless face concentrated on her vivid one, taking in every tiny detail. Her cherry lips twitched, saliva glittering on the surface.

Sasuke felt the peculiar urge within him to focus on those lips, feeling himself being compelled by their alluring...

No.

Concentrate, Uchiha.

Sakura shifted again, twisting her head away, the nape of her peachy neck being revealed to his obsidian orbs. Pink hair swung around, curling here, jutting out there, caressing her cheeks and slender shoulders. Involuntarily, his heart began to beat more ferociously, his ribcage becoming a cubicle much too small and crammed for it to fully excess itself.

Maybe, indeed, a nightmare. He knew those all too well; the memories of his past were like relentless wraiths, haunting him during every hour, so long he shut his eyes and be it for a second.

A wind picked up, rustling through the tilted window and leaving a lingering coolness behind. The raven-head's skin began to crawl from the sensation. It seemed the air had a mind of its own, spiralling through their bedroom, taking with it the overwhelming scent of cherries and forest fruits, as well as something sweet, yet flowery, defining the very essence that made out Sakura's fragrance.

Despite his prior repulsion towards sweet comestibles, Sakura's odour never grew repulsive. On the contrary; it was addictive. Something about it tugged at his nostrils, pulled at the inside of his body, grasping his lungs and heart and squeezing with delicacy. It was neither painful nor bothersome. It was lulling, somewhat soothing, like a promise sealed with an oath. Or a glass of cold water after a sweaty training session. Similar to the feeling of fire on a cold winter's night.

And all in all, it had an alluring, near to deadly nature about it that caused all of Sasuke to arouse without control.

He would never get enough of her.

His left hand reached out, wanting to touch her skin and feel the supple texture, yet he stopped in mid-air. He frowned at the bandaged limb, moving his fingers ever so slowly to test out the sensation of movement. It felt strange and foreign, but at the same time, it was completely a part of him as his actual arm had been.

Shortly after Sasuke returned from his long travels, Sakura had taken him to the hospital, deciding it was a fit time to take care of that missing arm of his, and return it so that he could shine in his former shinobi glory again.

Her concentrated visage; sweat forming at the top of her brow, threatening to spill across her face, as viridian eyes bore into the stump of his left arm, carefully attaching the cells of Hashirama onto it, allowing for the appendages to become a part of Sasuke's entire body. She knew she could not allow herself a single mistake.

He had touched her with that hand, and those fingers. And not always innocently.

The bed bounced again, warmth radiating off onto Sasuke from her body as she shuffled, a strangled moan erupting from her lips. It caught him out of his reverie.

He was about to call out silently and question what was displeasing her so much that she writhed and turned in their bed, maybe wake her carefully from the seeming nightmare, when, without further warning, Sakura flung herself up, duvets flying in a heap and landing on top of the Uchiha.

He scowled into the darkness that now enveloped him, pushing the covers off. All he saw were eager feet padding desperately across wooden planks, thrusting open the bedroom door and storming into what seemed to be the...

_Vomit._

Bathroom.

Onyx orbs widened marginally, confused at the obscene noises he was forcefully listening to. Evidently, his wife was not well; _sick_, most likely, if she hurling the life out of her stomach was any indication.

It could not have been their dinner; it was perfect, the way it _always_ was. She knew what he wanted and when he wanted it. She cooked with pride and care, and the taste never ceased to astound him. And besides, _he_ felt perfectly fine.

_'The hospital'_ Sasuke thought with a growing glower.

She loved to overwork herself with endless shifts, pouring into the night and keeping her awake for far longer than was healthy. Adding to that the many patients that bought with them a concoction of bacteria and bad health, she was constantly exposed to life-threatening illnesses.

Sakura nearly was, so Sasuke mustered with a wry smirk, in more danger daily than _he_. When he went to complete special endeavours in Naruto's name, or decided to continue travelling for some short weeks, maybe a month or two (but never longer, for his heart began to yearn for a certain pink-haired someone, much to his..._annoyance_) or simply completed a highly risky mission, he was never under as many threats as his wife.

He did not like that. But telling his wife so only earned him a light-hearted chuckle, a swift shake of the head and an, "Oh, Sasuke-kun, you can be so sweet."

Which all combined irritated him, and admittedly, he did not like that reaction from Sakura. He expected her to comply by his wishes, and adhere to his worries.

For he _always_ worried about her; since before their days together as _an item_. Secretly, with careful gazes and lingering thoughts; no matter how many times he tried to deny them, or suppress them, or ignore them. They were there. And gradually, they drove him mad.

"Sakura." He called out with his deep, velvety voice, hoping she would respond with something _other_ than barfing noises.

Finally having had enough of her implacable retching, Sasuke got up, the cold morning winds tugging at his abs and chest, yet he ignored it with a frown.

Approaching the entrance to their shared bedroom, he stepped outside as silently as a cat in the dark, halting when he stood in front of the bathroom.

She had just flushed the toilet, wiping her mouth and rinsing it out at the sink. She was shaking ever so slightly, her brows still furrowed painfully above her vermilion eyes, which, much to his chagrin, stayed concealed from his view.

Sasuke scrutinized her tense composure. Sakura brushed the back of her hand against her forehead, pushing locks of pink aside.

"If I didn't know any better" he began once more, charcoal eyes laced with the tiniest hints of worry boring into her, "I'd tell you to go see a doctor."

Finally, _finally_ (and why the hell did his breath stop for the slightest second? He was an _Uchiha_, god dammit!) she revealed her malachites to him, eyes sparkling with morning glory. She brushed through her bangs, not speaking a single word, just staring at his complexion, and he at hers.

"Need I drag you to Tsunade?" When had he become such a teasing man, smirking at her perplexed face?

He enjoyed it too much, for her eyes grew wider slightly.

"I want to see you try." She retorted, her voice raspy.

"Not like you'd put up much of a challenge." He could tell her scowl returning, and her shoulders broadening. She was going to cross her arms and demand in a very discording way _what_ exactly she was to interpret into his words, when he quickly added, "You practically _live_ at the hospital."

Her prior demeanour faded, and the tension within her limbs slacked, "I'll ask Shizune or someone to check me out." She shook it off, obviously not giving it much consideration, much to Sasuke's disgruntlement.

"Don't forget." Were his final words before he turned, leaving her behind in the bathroom as he made his way to the kitchen.

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><p>When Sakura returned that afternoon, Sasuke had already been back since an hour.<p>

His meeting with Naruto, alias _the Dobe_ had not been very long. They discussed a few political matters in and around Konoha, considered various new buildings they wanted to add and some small-fry problems that needed to be taken care of. A few training subjects were also debated about, as well as recommendation letters for diverse students into higher ranks.

Naruto had to leave in a hurry, together with Kakashi, in order to continue his training as soon-to-be-Hokage. Watching his former Sensei and team-mate talk nonsensically about vital matters was...unnerving and amusing at the same time.

Currently, the Uchiha husband sat on the porch of their house, going through his weapon pouch and polishing the smooth steel with a cloth.

He took in the sound of thudding feet which halted behind him, the all too familiar aroma of his wife invading his nostrils mercilessly, and the nervous tension that began to fill the air.

"Sasuke-kun?" her mellifluous voice queried.

"Hn." He kept on working, not taking note of the increasing uneasiness Sakura was currently facing.

Nor could he see vibrant glitter of her eyes, the flushed hue her cheeks had or the fact that she radiated not only nervousness, but _eagerness_, and thrilling, stupefying _glee_.

"I have something to tell you." It was her unspoken demand for him to turn around and face her properly, instead of treating her absentmindedly.

Placing down the last kunai, and neatly folding together his piece of cloth, he twisted his body so that he now faced her. He glanced upwards, watching her tilt her head as she blushed. She looked incredibly adorable and mesmerizing, then and there.

Never would he be able to _speak_ such compliments, though. He was more of a _practical_ flatterer. Thankfully, Sakura was well aware of that fact.

Still not pleased with her husbands seeming lack of attention, Sakura creased her eyebrows, silently pleading him to stand up and face her properly. Without much reluctance, Sasuke complied, placing a hand into his pocket as he stood opposite of Sakura.

The rose-haired kunoichi began to bite at her lower lip. She was evidently excited. What was she so joyous about? That she did _not_ have cancer? What was it Shizune, or Tsunade, whomever, had discovered at the hospital? Or maybe it had naught to do with that?

"I'm pregnant." The terms left her mouth so rapidly that it took him several seconds to register that she had said something at all, and what it ultimately was.

"Congratulations." And the response came faster than he could conjure up a chidori.

Sasuke observed the shock forming on her face, eyes widening in horror. Before he would suffer under the consequences of her undoubtedly imposing fury, due to his lack of happiness upon the exciting news, he turned, sitting himself down onto the porch and grasping his shuriken.

Sakura lowered her head, eyes still as large as saucepans. Her hands fisted, her shoulders tensed, the scowl returned to her face.

Yet before she could burst and fully chastise Sasuke for his reaction, or lack thereof, she noted the stillness with which he sat.

The shuriken lay limply within his hand, the cloth resting atop his lap. He was scrunching it up, _hard_.

"Sasuke-kun?" She walked beside him, lowering herself onto the porch next to the man of her heart. Only then did she see his facial expression.

A sight, that, in all of her life, Sakura had never seen before and most likely never would again. It was new, and strange, and comical. It was _so not Sasuke._

He was _shocked_.

A million different emotions ran through his eyes, his lips twitching, his face paling even more, eyes glazing over. He must have been deep in thought, completely overwhelmed by the news she had presented him with mere seconds ago.

All Sasuke could hear was the rushing of his gurgling blood and the tireless palpitating of his heart. And all he could think about was the fact that, soon, in most likely nine months, if he recalled correctly, there would be a mini-him toddling around, demanding his care and protection.

Or a mini-her.

A mini-both, most likely.

He did not know what he felt. What he _should_ feel. It was all a mix and blend and chaotic conundrum. It made no sense.

Sasuke jerked when a warm hand covered his, pulling the shuriken delicately from his grasp and laying it back down, before it returned to intertwine itself with his fingers.

Sakura smiled warmingly at him, her eyes so full of bliss he knew she had problems containing herself, "It's okay, Sasuke-kun. To be scared."

"I'm going to be a terrible father." Was his stern response.

Sakura giggled, squeezing his fingers, "No, you're not. You'll do great." She turned her eyes to glance at their garden, obviously lost in thought. She was somewhere else; somewhere much too paradisical that he could join.

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><p>That evening, when Sakura served their dinner (they had both eaten hearty lunches, thus the Uchiha matriarch decided for something light for dinner), Sasuke's mouth rambled on more than he believed it ever would in all of his life.<p>

"We need a room."

Sakura arched an eyebrow, setting the plate of lettuce and finely cut tomatoes down in front of her husband.

"Care to elaborate?"

"For the baby." his eyes met hers, holding her gaze firmly, "We'll need a cot. And a wardrobe. And toys. _Lots_ of toys. A changing table, a stock of diaper, and food that is easy to chew. Wait, babies don't have teeth, right?" He was glaring at his salad.

"Sasuke, don't stress yourself _now_. We have time to sort all of it-"

"We'll need to make the house baby-proof. The kid could hurt itself easily, anytime. And we need to consider if she'll join the-"

"She?" Sakura was munching on her lettuce, grabbing her glass of water and gulping some of it down.

"I mean..." he frowned some more. If looks could burn, his tomato would have been charred, "I don't know if it'll be a girl..."

The light-hearted chortle of his wife caused him to avert his eyes back towards her.

"What would you call her?" Sakura questioned, her voice ever so soft and penetrating. It quenched the raging fire of anxiety and fear within him, coating his vibrating nerves in a thick layer of soft, cool wool. She had that magical effect on him; only _now_ did he take more note of it, now that he had decided to let her in, completely.

For truthfully, she had _always_ had that effect on him.

"Salad." What was wrong with him? His brain was a garbled mess of incoherent responses and unsuccessful logic.

"_Salad_?" She nearly spat said food out of her mouth as Sakura burst into a tear-filled laughter. It took her a few minutes to catch herself, clutching her stomach and wheezing as she wiped at the corner of her eyes, "Care to repeat that, Sasuke-kun?"

"I...I don't know...I wasn't thinking." _God_ he sounded weak. Yet his facial demeanour betrayed nothing; the same, emotionless, nonchalant expression as always. The only give-aways were the slanted brows and his wife's incredible skill at reading the sentiments that flickered within his orbs.

Sakura giggled some more, placing her chin on her right hand as she leaned forwards, over the dining table, "_Sarada_. Sounds sweet."

Believing his counterpart to be mocking him, Sasuke focused his eyes onto hers, earning himself a devious smile, "Go on."

"Go on what?"

"Say whatever you need to stay. I take it the_ really_ stupid remarks will follow next time I see Naruto."

Sakura shrugged, unconcerned, "He named his son _Boruto_. _Sarada_ is not the worst of options."

Either she was trying to soothe his gradually increasing uneasiness, or she was outright teasing him.

One way or another; when Sasuke's first born daughter came to view the light of this world, she was officially called _Uchiha_ _Sarada_.

He asked himself if she would ever hate him for that decision, someday. Uchiha's had the tendency to hold grudges after all.

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><p><em><strong>AN:** The inspiration came when my friend showed me a post on tumblr where Sakura told Sasuke she was pregnant, and he simply "congratulated" her and internally panicked. And yeah, let's all have a laugh at Sasuke's and Sakura's daughter's name. Like, ferserious. SALAD!? _

_So please, **review** if you squealed because **SasuSaku is now CANON, and because they called their daughter SARADA, and GENERALLY TO SPILL OUT YOUR EMOTIOOONS! **_

_Peace~_


	2. Mutual Understanding

_**A/N: **First off, I want to tell you all that you are AMAZING. And I don't think amazing puts it. You are...just...like...fantastic awesome super-star brilliant wonderful people. The amount of feedback I got for the first shot? BREATHTAKING! I have never gotten so much positive response for any of my fanfictions, and I was mega happy! Every review and every favourite as well as alert makes me want to write more and more._

_So, you all have waited far too long. Here is the second One-Shot featuring Uchiha Sarada (who has now been added to the character list, yay!)_

_**Summary: **There were days when Uchiha Sarada wanted to throttle her father for the lack of attention he presented her with. She should have realised earlier that talking about it with someone who understood you was a better way of dealing with the problem than just running away._

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><p><span><strong>Mutual Understanding<strong>

She could not _believe_ it!

He had left; without a single word of valediction spoken to her; without informing her, warning her of the lack of his somewhat endearing presence the next day. All her futile attempts at making him proud;_ noticing_ how well she was doing and that she needed no new mobile phone or miniature _katana_ sword for her birthday, just _him._

Just her father, spending quality time with his daughter before he left on another endeavour. Or mission. Or both. Whatever it was he constantly discussed with uncle Naruto and mother that seemed so secretive.

Sarada sighed. She should have known, really. When he and her mother had stayed awake last night, in the living room, with only a flickering candle alight so as to not disturb her. Yet despite their best and most well intended efforts, she had snuck around, peeking past the corner of the corridor.

Without her glasses, however, she could only make out the blurred silhouettes of her parents as they spoke in a hushed tone.

Her mother had stood close to her father, who kept a hand on her left cheek, seemingly soothing her with terms the way he had once done when Sarada awoke from a heart-splitting nightmare.

They moved closer several times, just to part again briefly. The young Uchiha was not sure what exactly it was they did, albeit her hardest attempts at squeezing her eyes into better view. She could only imagine it was something like kissing. _Yuck. _She need not observe that.

She remembered stepping out into the dim light, softly calling for her mother, who turned, stepping away from her husband to kneel down in front of the obsidian-haired girl.

"Is everything okay?" Despite their now closer proximity, Sarada had trouble defining the details of her mother's face with her eyes. But she knew from the back of her memory just how beautiful her mother was; an artistry of human complexions the small child hoped to adopt herself as soon as she grew up.

"Yeah. Did we wake you?" Her tone was soft and graceful. Just the way Sarada loved it, as it soothed her woes.

The girl shook her head leisurely, gazing with large orbs at the rose-haired female.

"You should go back to bed, angel. It's late, and you have school tomorrow." She did not want to leave. She wanted to know what her parents were talking about. Even though a small fraction of her feared the most logical answer, the inner apprehension and intuition warning her that it was anything but pleasant.

But not knowing seemed worse _than_ knowing, right now. At least to the seven-year-old.

"What are you and dad talking about?" She asked, and her tone was a lot more tender and frightful than usually. She had such a strong demeanour and pose, per usual; why was fear consuming her _now_?

"Sara-chan..." The pained voice her mother had now adopted spoke volumes for itself.

"Sara." The stern, respect-demanding sound of her father caused a small chill to run down her spine, and she shrunk into herself, "Go to sleep." It was a command, spoken with the tiniest hint of endearment and concern, as well as a minuscule, hidden amount of guilt, so finely wrapped up in the layers of authority that for any outsider, it would be hard _not_ to miss.

"Yes, father." Sarada's heart sank speedily, a frown caressing her brows as she lowered her eyes. The girl felt her mother kiss her temple sweetly, before she turned around and receded into her bedroom.

"Did you have to be so-" the last word's of her mother's scolding were muffled by the distance.

The next day, the black-haired Uchiha woke up to leave for school, not having had the chance to talk to her father that morning.

"_He is tired from the journey. He's still asleep."_ her mother had responded with a smile as she handed her her packed lunch.

If only the Uchiha matriarch had not left out the part with him _not being there when she returned._

Uchiha Sasuke, Sarada's jerk of a father, who sometimes was simply so _shannaro_, had gone without one. Singular. Word. Of. A. Farewell.

She wanted to _scream_.

Thus, it was no surprise that, after she returned from school in a rushed manner, flinging her bag in the corner, greeting her mother curtly just to inquire for her papa, she was to be disappointed.

"Darling...he...left." There was an excusing smile from her mother, grand viridian eyes glancing apologetically into Sarada's, "He was only home briefly. He needed to leave this morning."

The young Uchiha's shoulders sunk, her eyes large, sparkling orbs, brows furrowing in disbelief, "But...he wanted to show me how to throw shuriken correctly." It was the first and, honestly, only thing that came to her mind.

_He had promised._

She had not seen him in _weeks_, and barely after a _day_, he was _gone_. _Again_.

Without a further word to be exchanged, Sarada stormed out of the house, racing across the pathway and heading deeper into the city of Konoha.

She lost herself in between skyscrapers, busy roads and talking crowds. She was not crying. No. Crying was for the weak, and the lonely. She was neither. Just utterly, deeply, thoroughly _disappointed_.

Hence, a scowl marring her facial features, she trudged along ignoring all passer-bys, simply glaring deathly holes into the pavement. Sarada was coming up with a hundred different cuss words and insulting terms to direct mentally towards her father, hoping he would feel her anger and wrath no matter how many miles away he was.

Just then, the boiling heat of aggravation intensifying like a fire being stoked, the girl clenched her fists menacingly, brows creasing violently as she squeezed her eyes shut.

"_SHANNARO!_" She roared, startling many innocent civilians who halted to gaze questioningly at her. Others quickly threw her a scalding, disapproving glance before they continued on their way.

The Uchiha heir did not give a single damn. May everyone laugh and point the way they sometimes did with Boruto. Right now, she needed to vent steam.

Her feet began to increase their pace before she could register what was happening, and suddenly, Sarada was racing along the path into the older part of Konoha, past homes and shops and some elder, rebuilt complexes. Twisting her heel to fling herself around a corner and down a narrower street, she was not prepared when she smacked full body into an obstacle.

Sarada's glasses jerked off, clattering to the ground. She herself was dazed for several seconds as her feet staggered backwards.

The person in front of her huffed, righting itself. Once the girl caught herself, she attempted to recognize who or what it was that had bumped into her, or she into him, but her new blindness was hindering her from making out many details.

It was a strange mingle of colours that were both bright and dark. Suddenly, it moved, bending forwards, and before she could comprehend exactly what it was doing, her glasses were held underneath her chin.

Reluctantly, Sarada took them, placing them back onto the bridge of her nose. Finally, her vision cleared, everything taking back their acute, sharp forms and shapes.

It was now that she had to note that the very _thing_ he had crashed into was, actually, _Boruto_. He wore a dumbfounded expression, one of his eyebrows was raised and he began to scratch the back of his neck.

"You okay?" He inquired, looking a little depleted himself.

"Yeah..." she was back to glaring at him, the way her eyes automatically did whenever they met his form.

It was not that she despised him. To be truthful, the girl did not _know_ what exactly she felt whenever she saw the riotous blonde.

He was loud and vibrant and defined _so much trouble and nonsense. _It was not exactly her repertoire.

Not that it had _always_ been like that.

Their fathers were brothers. Well, at least they _viewed_ each other as that; in reality they were simply very close friends who shared a special, meaningful bond. Back in her _even_ younger days, when Sarada's father spent a lot more time at home, tending to her and teaching her all sorts of things and in general, being the father she _wanted_ him to be, she spent a lot of time with Boruto also.

Uncle Naruto would come by, in his pre-Hokage days, having Boruto latched around his left hand. He would banter excitedly with her parents whilst she and Boruto were left to entertain themselves.

It often ended in small, simplistic games of tag or hide and seek. Sometimes they would sit together and draw, or watch a movie, or sneak into her father's office and hack into his computer, where they would research all sorts of strange pictures or clips and laugh at the bizarre realm of the _internet_.

She did not have much of a problem hacking her father's electronic devices. Being an Uchiha, she had the knack to be devious and cunning. Yet she was also a _Haruno_, which allowed for quite some deep-level cleverness to surface every now and then.

Boruto was fun to hang around with, at least in their younger days. They would laugh a lot, and talk a lot, and play a lot. At times, they would pretend to be enemy ninja, fighting each other, acting like they were chucking shuriken or kunai at one another.

Even so, when Boruto's father became the seventh Hokage, and Sasuke resumed his travels to complete specific missions and tasks and both children were neglected by either fathers, things changed.

Boruto, the boy who would laugh and try hard, who would take grand care of his little sister and be the overly protective big brother he always made out to be, became what her mother called a _troublemaker_.

He began to play pranks (a habit, so her aunt had declared, which he had from his father. Who, in return, got it from his mother) and vandalized various buildings in Konoha.

It _really_ commenced when he hid uncle Naruto's ramen cups, or replaced his morning coffees with water mixed with dirt from their gardens. He liked to place flower petals inside his sandwiches, and then later on, he would paint the Hokage monuments, tease his teachers at school, spray the neighbour wet using their hose or cause the fire alarm at school to set off, so that immediate evacuation was called for.

The blonde, light-eyed male never ran out of ideas, and, much to Sarada's dismay, he became worse and more ridiculous with every cantrip he undertook. Soon, they grew apart; Sarada disapproving of his childish behaviour and constant, somewhat successful yet futile attempts at gaining his father's attention. At least she _believed_ that was what he wanted. She could never bring herself to look away.

He so easily distracted her. A small, somewhat unimportant part of her even understood and admired him for his relentlessness. All he desired was for his father to spend some quality time with him, and Sarada understood that feeling all too well.

It became a habit, thus, for her to return home, miffed and confused by Boruto's actions, not knowing how to emotionally interpret them, and speak her complaints to her mother.

"_Boruto again?_" she would laugh with a shake of her head, pink strands flinging around her face.

Sarada did not know what to make out of the very Uzumaki heir that currently stood in front of her, a nonchalant expression plastered to his striped face.

"What were you running away from?" He questioned, ultimately pulling her out of her reminiscing.

"N-None of your business!" She cursed herself for the stutter, mustering her best and most intimidating glare (she had often watched her father glare at uncle Naruto, and tried her best to imitate it whilst looking into the mirror).

"Gee, alright, no reason to get all defensive." Boruto shrugged, frowning himself, "If you don't want to talk to me, fine. I'm not in the mood, anyway." A dejected expression crossed his teal orbs, shoulders slacking considerably as he lowered his view to the ground.

Sympathy began to course through her and she could not help but relax, her expression softening involuntarily, "You dad again, huh?" She was surprised at her attempt to small-talk with him, but shrugged the weirdness of it off.

She did not like him, not the way her mother or aunty Ino claimed her to, she just _understood_.

And now, she _wanted_ to be understood, too.

"Mhm." His eyes were still averted from her, his hands now digging into his pockets, "He's an ass, as always." Boruto muttered lowly.

"Mine isn't better." She responded with a softened tone. Her heart sunk once more at the memory of her father; how long would it take _this_ time before she saw him again and got to spend some time in his presence? More than just _a day. _

"I saw him leave this morning. Didn't uncle Sasuke _just_ return?" He was glancing at her now, a curious expression on his face. He was being openly interested.

Sarada nodded with a grimace, "Yup, and left. Without telling me." She pouted, then frowned again, "How do you know? Weren't we in school?"

"It was recess time and I used that to sneak away from the campus and go prank my dad."

She sighed, a sense of ridicule coming over her. Would that _ever_ grow old for him?

"What were you doing this time?" The roll of her eyes was palpable in her voice.

"I was going to steal his laptop and hack into it so that I could mess around with his files and desktop, but uncle Shikamaru caught me before I got that far. I was being super stealthy; until I couldn't move. He had used his special shadow technique to catch me." Proper frustration was evident as he glowered at nothing in particular.

"Well, _obviously_ he caught you. You have the stealth of an elephant." Sarada chuckled with a smirk, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Boruto redirected his glare towards her, "Not like _you_ could have done it any better." His features then lightened, "What do _you _do to gain your father's attention?"

He was not challenging her, he was asking simply out of curiosity. Maybe to catch the one or other good tip? Or to simply talk and rant? She was not sure.

Sarada shrugged, a little embarrassed at her next words, "I chucked juice down his shirt once just before he intended to leave. He had to postpone his departure and wait until mom had cleaned his stuff before he could go...and...I hid his _kusanagi_ once. But he saw right through that. He got quite angry."

Boruto laughed with mirth, hands still in his pockets as he smiled at her, "Really? _Nice_.But, when he comes home, he _does_ spend time with you, right?"

"It's kind of hard to get his attention. He is always reading or doing some work or whatnot. And sometimes he leaves with my mom. I poke him and prod him and show him what I learnt at school, but keeping his attention on me for more than five minutes is a challenge." The tension left her posture, she felt her good mood increase and a smile cross her lips at the thought of her miffed father.

"You should paint his sword pink or something, that would throw him off! Or send him a postcard which explodes and dyes his face green or something! He'd look ridiculous, especially if you take the stuff that doesn't wash out easily." Boruto was chortling at his ideas, grinning the way only his own father was capable of doing.

"Yeah, maybe" Sarada shrugged, smiling too, "but he'd just _hn_ at me and glare."

"Oh yeah, he _hn's _a lot! Dad always jokes about how he apparently has a stick up his ass most of the time."

"My dad often tells me uncle Naruto is a loud-mouthed idiot with an attention-complex."

"That sounds like me more than my dad." Boruto hollered loudly, and Sarada admired the fact that he could laugh at himself so effortlessly.

"Well, he claims you are just like how your dad used to be." There was a giggle evident in the sound of her own voice.

"Really?" He stopped his reverie of laughter, large cerulean eyes penetrating hers, "I doubt that..."

"Well, he grew up without parents...so..." She shrugged, not wanting to say something offending or wrong and get scolded for it.

"One way or another, he's an idiot. He always works and comes home late, and sometimes forgets his robes the next day. He went to work once without his trousers, _that_ was hilarious. Mom went all red when she ran after him with them in hand."

The young Uchiha grinned at the thought of uncle Naruto and his amusing antics. She liked her loud, boisterous and warming uncle a lot; he had an endearing comical nature she sometimes wished her _own_ father to have. But evidently, he was far from a perfect parent; if Boruto went to such extents just to gain his attention.

"Mine pulls a funny face if my mother forgets to put a decent amount of tomatoes into his packed lunch. He never _verbally_ complains, though, he has too much pride." She bit her lip.

"Sounds like_ you_ too!"

Immediately, a scarlet hue spread across her cheeks as she scowled at him again, "N-No it doesn't!"

"Oh come on, Sarada! I'm only teasing you." His trademark grin returned as he scratched the back of his head sheepishly.

"Well...you have the same stupid expression your dad always has!" She rolled her tongue out at that, and Boruto stared openly at her, a little astounded at the outburst.

"Pff! You glower like your father! Same stick-up-the-ass face!"

"And you blush like your mother sometimes."

"And you are as pretty as yours."

They both halted, gazing at each other in shock. Boruto's eyes widened a fraction as he realised what he had said, heat invading his cheeks which flushed a vibrant crimson.

Sarada herself was dumbfounded, blinking several times as his last words sunk in.

"I-I mean...she is pretty, but not as pretty as _my_ mom!"

She shook her head, laughing, still flushed as she and her opposite continued to exchange teasing remarks, bantering playfully with each other.

It nearly felt like all those years ago; when they were but innocent infants playing in the front-garden of her house, or _his_, when his sister sat in the corner of the sand pit. The communication proved to be a lot more easy now than it ever had been. They were both facing a level of understanding which, secretly they had _always_ had, despite their best efforts to ignore it.

Yet there was no room for nostalgia as they continued to laugh and smile and then found themselves walking side by side through the calmer streets of Konoha.

They simply existed, here and then; two souls with similar familiar fates, which entailed two good-for-nothing fathers and a whole dosage of untold tricks. Sarada was sure to try out the colour bomb next time she sent her father a letter, and Boruto considered dying his father's Hokage robes purple.

It sure would cause quite the talk in Konoha.

* * *

><p><em><strong>AN: **This was cute to write. Again, kudos to Mythika who talked about a scenario in which Sarada and Boruto complained about their fathers._

_**Please review** if you believe SaraxBoru would be cute! And generally if you liked this and want more! And what you thought! Really, I wanna hear it *hearts*_


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